Puri, revered as a sacred kshetra, is believed to have existed from time immemorial. The present-day temple of Lord Jagannath, standing tall since 1198 AD on the sacred site of Nilgiri Mountain, is the fourth in a series of temples believed to have been built there. Around this spiritual nucleus, the city of Puri gradually evolved, emerging as a prominent religious centre on the eastern coast of India—its spiritual resonance dating back even before 1500 BC.
The religious significance of Puri has been continually enriched by a confluence of diverse cultural streams, showing the profound imprint of three major traditions—Tribal, Buddhist, and Brahmanical. These traditions, while distinct in their ethos, converge in their endorsement of Puri as an abode of divinity. Furthermore, its spiritual prestige was reaffirmed by Adi Shankaracharya, who established Puri as one of the four Char Dham pilgrimage sites, alongside Badrinath, Dwarkanath, and Rameshwar.
The Puranas and ancient Sanskrit texts offer a rich tapestry of epithets for Puri, including Nilachala, Nilagiri, Niladri, Mandirmala Kshetra, Shrikshetra, Nilachakra Kshetra, Dasa Avatara Kshetra, Bhouma Kshetra, Purushottam Kshetra, and Jagannath Dham. Each name adds a nuanced layer to the city’s profound spiritual and historical identity.
Following the construction of the magnificent Jagannath Temple, the city came to be known as Jagannath Puri—Jagannath meaning “Lord of the Universe,” a composite of the Sanskrit words Jaga (Universe) and Nath (Lord). Today, the temple stands as a centre of devotion for the followers of Krishna and Vishnu.The sanctity and splendour of Jagannath Puri reach their zenith during the annual Rath Yatra festival. This grand chariot procession, in its spectacle and spirit, draws devotees into an otherworldly experience of divine celebration. Adding to the mystical aura, the very layout of the city resembles a conch shell—shankha, symbolically aligning it with Vishnu, who holds the conch as a part of his eternal insignia. Thus, the spiritual, cultural, and architectural dimensions of Puri collectively affirm its timeless place as the abode of the Lord of the Universe.
The glory of Jagannath Puri is not limited to its architectural marvel or its ritual significance. It is deeply rooted in the ancient tale of how the Lord Himself came to reside in this sacred land. The story stretches back several millennia, to the time of King Indradyumna—a devout follower of Lord Vishnu. Upon hearing about the mysterious deity named Nila-Madhava from a court devotee, the king dispatched Brahmins across the land to find Him. While most returned empty-handed, one Brahmin named Vidyapati did not.
Vidyapati’s search led him to a tribal region inhabited by the Shabaras. He found hospitality in the home of Visvasu, a local chieftain, and eventually married his daughter, Lalita. Over time, Vidyapati discovered that his father-in-law secretly worshipped Nila-Madhava in a hidden shrine. With great persistence, he convinced Visvasu to take him there, secretly marking the path with mustard seeds. When Vidyapati finally beheld the deity, he was overwhelmed with spiritual ecstasy. A celestial voice instructed him to inform King Indradyumna before he attempted to merge into the divine.
Soon after, Nila-Madhava told Visvasu that He would now accept worship from King Indradyumna, and Vidyapati rushed to deliver the divine message. But by the time the king arrived, the deity had vanished. In his despair, Indradyumna imprisoned Visvasu—until a divine voice intervened, instructing him to release the devotee and prepare to receive the Lord as Daru-Brahma—the Supreme manifest in wood.
This mysterious wooden form was said to contain an unseen essence—Brahma—within a hidden chamber. After much effort, King Indradyumna discovered a log with celestial markings, floating in the sea. Despite all attempts, the wood could not be moved until Visvasu was brought forth and kirtan was performed in front of a golden chariot. The log, known as Daru-Brahman, then moved effortlessly and was brought to the site of the future temple.
Efforts to carve the deities failed until Lord Vishvakarma, disguised as the sculptor Ananta Maharana, agreed to craft the forms under one condition: no one would open the temple doors for three weeks. But after 14 days, consumed by anxiety, the king opened the doors—only to find the deities of Lord Jagannath, Balabhadra, and Subhadra incomplete. The divine sculptor had vanished. Devastated, the king blamed himself, but the Lord appeared in a dream, assuring him that this unique form—without fully formed limbs—was intentional and destined to be the icon of worship in the Kali Yuga.
The unfinished yet complete form of Lord Jagannath holds profound significance, reflecting divinity beyond human limitations. Adorned occasionally with golden limbs, this form continues to captivate devotees who see in Him the eternally beautiful Syamasundara Krishna, flute in hand, especially during the grand procession of the Rath Yatra. The Lord’s appearance and abode are thus inseparably tied in a divine narrative that continues to inspire millions across generations.
This divine narrative finds deeper roots not only in ancient history and mythology but also in the timeless devotional tales that surround Jagannath Puri. One such poignant episode unfolds in Dwarka, where Mother Rohini, upon request, begins narrating the Lord’s divine pastimes with the Gopis of Vraj. Considering the nature of the katha unsuitable for Subhadra’s ears, she sent the young goddess to guard the palace doors. As destiny would have it, Krishna and Balarama arrived at that very moment, and Subhadra, with outstretched arms, blocked their entry.
Yet, the pull of Rohini’s narration proved irresistible. Even from the doorway, the enchanting tales held the three siblings in rapt attention. Just then, Sage Narada arrived and witnessed the trio—Krishna, Balarama, and Subhadra—frozen in a moment of divine stillness. With devotion, he prayed ‘May the three of you grant darshan in this manner forever. His wish was granted, and today, it is in this iconic form that the deities stand side by side in the sanctum of the Jagannath Temple.
As the city of Puri prepares for the grand annual Ratha yatra, a series of elaborate pre-festival rituals unfold—sanctifying not just the surroundings, but the minds and hearts of millions.The Rath Yatra, beyond being a spiritual pilgrimage, is also a massive logistical and cultural endeavour—one that begins as early as Basant Panchami in February, when over 4,000 logs of wood are delivered and stored right on the grand avenue.
Crafted by around two hundred artisans including carpenters, blacksmiths, painters, and tailors.The construction of the chariots officially begins on Akshaya Tritiya, an auspicious day that also marks the start of the Chandan Yatra, the summer sandalwood festival. From Ram Navami in April, when the cutting of logs commences, every detail of the chariots is executed with precision.
The Chandan Yatra itself is a three-week spectacle where representative deities are taken out in colourful processions and given ceremonial boat rides in the sacred Narendra Pokhari. Symbolising the inclusive spirit of the Jagannath tradition, the festival also includes deities from five Shaiva shrines—known as the Pancha Pandava—emphasising the syncretic fabric of the region. Each day ends with the deities being ritually bathed in a temple at the heart of the tank, using water infused with sandalwood paste and flowers.
This festival culminates in the Snana Yatra on the full moon day of Jestha, when the deities descend from their sanctum to be bathed in 108 pots of water drawn from the Suna Kua or golden well. It is during this elaborate ritual that the deities take on the Hastibesha—the unique attire of an elephant. The visual grandeur of this transformation draws countless devotees, while its symbolic essence harks back to a cherished legend: a scholar, devoted solely to Ganesha, once saw Lord Jagannath manifest in the form of the elephant god to affirm that divinity meets devotion in all forms.
Post this sacred bath, the deities symbolically fall ill and retreat into a period of rest known as Anavasara. For fifteen days, they remain hidden from public view behind hand-painted Anasara Pattis, as daitapatis—descendants of the tribal devotee Viswabasu and Brahmin priest Vidyapati—take over exclusive service. The diet of the Lords is also altered to simple roots, fruits, and herbs to help them recover. In these gestures, the tribal roots of Jagannath worship remain vividly preserved.
The symbolic rejuvenation of the deities culminates in the Nabajaubana Darshan, a highly anticipated moment when Lord Jagannath, Lord Balabhadra, and Devi Subhadra emerge in their youthful forms. Adorned in fresh attire, their radiant presence is believed to bestow vitality and prosperity upon the devotees. Soon after, the Gundicha Marjana ritual unfolds, wherein devotees engage in the thorough cleaning and decoration of the Gundicha Temple—also known as the Garden House of Lord Jagannath—preparing it for the divine guests.
The period ends with Netroutsav, when the eyes of the deities are freshly painted, signifying their spiritual rejuvenation. The very next day, the city of Puri wakes up to the most awaited moment—the grand Rath Yatra begins anew, continuing a tradition that is as timeless as faith itself.
The Ratha yatra, or Festival of Chariots, takes place on the second day of the waxing moon phase in the lunar month of Ashadha. On this auspicious day, Lord Jagannath, Lord Balabhadra, Goddess Subhadra, and the Sudarshana Chakra are ceremoniously taken from the sanctum of the main temple to their majestic chariots. Three colossal wooden chariots are built—one for each deity—each uniquely designed, painted, and named: Nandighosa for Jagannath, Taladhwaja for Balabhadra, and Darpadalana for Subhadra. Nearly 1,200 meters of cloth are used by fourteen skilled tailors to dress these divine vehicles in vibrant hues: red and yellow for Nandighosa, red and blue for Taladhwaja, and red and black for Darpadalana.
The specifications of the chariots are deeply symbolic. Nandighosa, standing forty-five feet tall with sixteen seven-foot-diameter wheels, is drawn by white horses named Shankha, Rochika, Mochika, and Jwalani, guided by the charioteer Daruka. Taladhwaja of Balabhadra stands at forty-four feet with fourteen wheels, drawn by black horses—Sthira, Dhriti, Sthiti, and Siddha—with Sudyumna as the charioteer. Subhadra’s chariot, Darpadalana, is forty-three feet tall with twelve wheels and horses named Prajna, Anuja, Ghora, and Aghora, guided by Arjuna. Each chariot is decorated with floral canopies and sacred insignias, creating a rolling temple of divine energy.
Legends intertwine with ritual as the festival unfolds. While some believe the Rath Yatra commemorates Jagannath’s annual visit to His birthplace at Gundicha Ghar, others say it honors Subhadra’s journey to her maternal home, or Krishna and Balarama journey to Mathura as described in the Bhagavata Purana. Regardless of interpretation, the Ratha Pratishtha in the morning and the pulling of the chariots—Ratha Tana—in the afternoon mark the most exhilarating moments of the festival. A mere touch of the chariot or even the ropes is believed to bestow the merit of countless pious deeds.
Before the chariots begin to roll, the festival begins with one of its most respected rituals—Chera Pahara. The Gajapati Maharaja, the ceremonial head of the Jagannath Temple and a royal descendant, arrives in a traditional palanquin, accompanied by a majestic procession of elephants and horses.In a rare display of humility and devotion, the Gajapati Maharaja, ruler of Puri, sweeps the platforms of each chariot with a golden-handled broom, affirming his role not as monarch but as the first servitor of Lord Jagannath. This gesture is part of a royal ritual that reflects the king’s centuries-old vow to serve the Lord.
The tradition traces back to the 12th century when Anantavarman Chodagangadeva, founder of the current Jagannath Temple, declared himself Rauta—a mere servant of the Lord. This humble service, however, once stirred royal controversy.
The story of King Purusottama Deva of the Ganga dynasty offers a compelling narrative. During a visit to Kanchi, the King fell for Princess Padmavati. Though initially agreeable, the Kanchi King rescinded the proposal upon witnessing Purusottama sweeping the chariot path during Ratha Yatra—misconstruing the sacred act as demeaning. Deeply insulted, Purusottama declared war, but faced defeat and turned to Lord Jagannath in prayer. In a divine dream, the Lord promised to fight alongside him.
What followed has passed into legend: Lord Jagannath and Balabhadra, disguised as warriors, rode ahead of Purusottama’s army. They paused to drink buttermilk from a poor cowherd woman named Manika, leaving behind a golden ring as payment. When the king later arrived and recognized the ring, he rewarded Manika with land—today known as Manika Patana.
With divine backing, Purusottama defeated Kanchi, captured the princess, and in fury, ordered her to marry a chandala. His minister, however, stalled the union until the next Ratha Yatra. When the King again performed Chera Panhara, the minister presented him as the chandala—thus fulfilling his own command and enabling the royal marriage. Their son, Prataparudra, later emerged as a devout follower of Chaitanya Mahaprabhu.
As a testament to that conquest, idols of Ganesh and Radha-Radhakanta were brought from Kanchipuram to Puri, where they remain enshrined today.
On the auspicious day of the Rath Yatra, devotion surges like a tidal wave across the city. The deities Lord Jagannath, Balabhadra, and Subhadra emerge from the sanctum sanctorum in the ritualistic Pahandi, a rhythmic swaying procession set to the thunder of conch shells and devotional drums. The air reverberates with chants of Jai Jagannath, and the moment of darshan—as the idols descend toward their grand chariots—is met with cries of ecstasy from the ocean of devotees lining the streets.
Soon after, begins the heart of the celebration—the pulling of the chariots. Bound by thick ropes and deeper faith, thousands throng the bada danda to become a part of this sacred journey. Every tug, every chant, is laden with belief that to pull the chariot is to draw oneself closer to salvation. The deities, now seated upon their towering wooden raths, begin their slow, majestic march toward the Gundicha Temple, stopping along the way as devotees sing hymns and offer prayers at each pause—transforming the streets into a moving shrine of surrender.
The chariot of Lord Jagannath, Nandighosa, pauses midway near the cremation site of Bhakta Salabega, a devout Muslim whose unwavering faith has immortalized him in Jagannath lore. This moving tribute reflects the inclusivity that defines the Jagannath tradition.
Upon arrival, the Gundicha Temple—Lord Jagannath’s maternal abode—welcomes its divine guests for a seven-day sojourn. Known as the Garden House, this sanctum is steeped in symbolism as the deities’ birthplace. Here, rituals unfold in celebration of life’s cyclical renewal, and the temple grounds bloom in festivity. Devotees pour in, their faith renewed, to glimpse the Lord not as a distant deity, but as one who leaves His sanctum to be among His people.
As the deities rest at the Gundicha Temple, time seems to pause in Puri, only to be reawakened by the call of home. The return journey,Bahuda Yatra mirrors the grandeur of their outward procession. Chariots roll once more through the city’s sacred artery, and the festive spirit surges anew. A poignant moment unfolds at the Mausi Maa Temple, where the deities pause to accept Poda Pitha, a rustic sweet symbolic of maternal love and divine hospitality. Yet, not all is serene—Hera Panchami recalls Goddess Lakshmi’s displeasure for being left behind, enacted through her dramatic act of damaging the Lord’s chariot, a tender assertion of her place in this divine relationship.
The siblings Jagannath, Balabhadra, and Subhadra finally make their way back to Jagannath Temple. The moment is marked by Sunabesha, when the deities appear decked in glistening gold ornaments, a radiant vision of divine opulence that attracts countless devotees. But the homecoming is not yet complete. Goddess Lakshmi, still feigning indignation, bars Lord Jagannath’s entry, forcing Him to plead for forgiveness in a display of divine playfulness. Only after His heartfelt appeals is the sanctum sanctorum reopened. With Niladri Bije, the deities return to the Garbha-Griha, and the cosmic cycle of journey and return comes to a close.
Yet, this journey does not end in Puri. The spiritual resonance of Lord Jagannath, rooted in tribal lore, royal patronage, and centuries of sacred tradition now transcends borders. From vibrant rath yatras in New York and London to serene chants in Nairobi and Sydney, the Lord of the Universe unites a world fragmented by boundaries. In every culture that embraces Him, His form—imperfect, armless, and profoundly human—speaks of acceptance, belonging, and grace.
Thus, the chariots may rest, but the wheels of faith keep turning—forever rolling through time, through lands, and through hearts.
